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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24184234">Why?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airspritegal/pseuds/Airspritegal'>Airspritegal</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whelp, he ain't getting any deader. [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Death, Drowning, Gen, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Like just angst, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, This is just angst my dudes, This is why I should not be allowed to write, that is what was asked for</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:48:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,873</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24184234</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airspritegal/pseuds/Airspritegal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the mountain Jaskier travels alone and stumbles into danger rather quickly. Geralt isn't there to save him this time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whelp, he ain't getting any deader. [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746025</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>142</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Why?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts"></a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was a prompt from AceSpaceButterFace, I hope I did it any amount of justice. </p><p>"After the mountain Jaskier travels alone because he has neither guide nor map and gets lost in a bog riddled with foglets who come to him at night disguised as Geralt to lure him into the bog and in the end he just inevitably drowns in a marsh"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If Jaskier tried hard enough, he could pinpoint the exact second Geralt tore the beating heart right from his chest and let it fall carelessly over the cliff edge. He could also tell you the exact second his brain and body fell out of sync. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He'd tried to speak again, tried to step closer but his body wouldn't listen to him and he found himself quietly bidding his friend goodbye. He'd turned, waiting for a second but when Geralt didn't try to stop him, Jaskier left. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Getting down the mountain wasn't all that hard really, not when any urge to sing or strum had been taken from him, rendering him surprisingly silent in his descent. He followed the path listlessly, expression somewhere between despair and vaguely empty. A small, hopeful part of him kept listening for Geralt, for the stubborn witcher to catch up and, not apologize but at least give Jaskier a goodbye himself. He didn't even catch a glimpse white hair and that small stupid piece of his heart crumbled away. He camped the first night by himself, with no tent or protection to speak of and found himself doing the same the second night as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He made it to Roach on his third day of travel, sometime in the early afternoon and managed a small smile. The mare huffed at him when he approached and nibbled at his hair and doublet, content with his return. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey girl." He cooed quietly, stroking at her nose when she bent her head to huff at his chest, or, more likely, nose at his pockets for sugar cubes. When she found no such treats she huffed and shook her head. Jaskier gave a small chuckle as he backed away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sorry. Sorry. Nothing today." He said apologetically. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nor ever again</span>
  </em>
  <span> his brain scathingly provided for him a moment later. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You won't see Roach again because Geralt doesn't want to see you again. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He sighed and lowered his eyes. His and Geralt's bags sat not far away and Jaskier approached them slowly, hesitantly, as he knew taking his things would finally, finally cement the fact that he was to be alone again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Picking up his things wasn't hard, not that he had much anyway. He debated taking his bed roll, knowing Geralt didn't need two but, seeing as Geralt had purchased the second not long after Jaskier had started traveling with him, he felt it wasn't his to take. He left it lying gently with Geralt's things. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His bags and lute strapped to his back he shuffled his feet anxiously, and soon he found himself back at Roach's side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>"So, guess I should say goodbye to you girl. It's the least I can do." He said as he stroked her side. As if she understood him, she stomped her hoof and flipped her head. "I'll miss you… Keep him from doing anything too stupid, yeah?" He said gently before turning away. He couldn't help the small whimper he let out when Roach let out a quiet whinny and nipped his doublet as if to hold him with her. </span><em><span>At least she wants me to stay. </span></em><span>His mind unhelpfully provided for him as</span> <span>he gently got her to release her hold before he made his way back towards town.  </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without Geralt he found no reason to linger and, after a stop at a local shop to gather a new bedroll, he was already heading out again. It was mid afternoon now and the bard couldn't bring himself to really think about where he was headed. Geralt had led when in unfamiliar territory and they had always split for the winter near the same place, where Jaskier could easily make it back to Oxenfurt in about a fortnight.. Now though, he had no idea where he was or where he even could go. He'd asked the shopkeep in passing as he purchased his bedroll and she had pointed him west for the nearest town. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With little else to do and no one to stay for, he headed west like he had been advised, only just able to ignore the piece of him that had somehow glued itself back together to listen for the Witcher.  He knew that if Geralt caught up with him then he would immediately fall back into step with said Witcher. Sure, he'd let him have a piece of his mind, but he'd still follow him to the ends of the planet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took until the sun was low over the horizon and the sky was painting itself pink for the bard to finally stop. He didn't dare go any further with the trail becoming muddy and slick as he approached what he could only assume was a bog, and the light dimming enough to render any further trek dangerous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned back and walked just far enough that the ground began to dry before he truly tried to make camp. He set down his things and laid out his bedroll before venturing around his campsite for suitable wood to burn. Within an hour he had a small fire going and was nibbling on what little rations he had stashed in his bag; nearly stale bread and an embarrassingly smashed apple. The meager dinner lowered his spirits, which had managed to slightly rise on his trek and he found himself deflating sadly </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He eyed his lute with a kind of detached sadness as the feeling of loneliness began to really set in. Having been able to hold it at bay as he walked, it now had full reign over him. He wanted to play, he always wanted to play but what was the point? There was no one to hear him and no one to sing of either. The song he had attempted to write on the mountain sat heavy in the back of his mind and the words lingered in his throat but he didn't have the energy to release them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did reach out and pull the lute case over, opening it and running his fingers gently over the carved wood, but didn't play a single note. He leaned back on his hands and let his gaze wander to the sky where the first few stars were starting to shine. Maybe he would write the rest of the lyrics down, then when he had the energy he could debut his new song for the crowds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deciding that was a better use of his time than emulating Geralt by sulking and brooding all night, the bard dug out his songbook and by the light of his meager fire, wrote, changed and rewrote the lyrics to his new song. It was only when the pages began to blur and his words became nothing but smudges, did Jaskier finally set his things aside. Hours had passed and the sky was alight with twinkling stars and the full moon cast a faint glow on everything around him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He put out his fire, </span>
  <em>
    <span>for safety' </span>
  </em>
  <span>he reminded himself, and packed away his songbook once more. He didn't bother to change, too tired to worry about his clothes, and instead curled fully dressed, into his bedroll. He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep, his back turned the way he had come. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Jaskier!?" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He awoke with a start, sitting up and looking around with bleary eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Geralt, is that you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Jaskier!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There it was again, that oh so familiar voice calling out to him; for him. A thick fog must have rolled in as he slept because as his sight came back to him, he saw the area lay covered in a blanket of mist. In the distance, in the direction he was heading, he saw a faint light and distant shape moving away from him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Jaskier? Where the hell did you go? You'll get yourself killed out here alone!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier watched as what he had to assume was Geralt, lighting his way with a torch,moved further into the fog and the trees before he scrambled to his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Geralt!" He started rushing for the Witcher but found Geralt to be moving quickly away from him, still calling for him. "Geralt!" He dimly wondered why Geralt was using a torch when he could see decently in the dark but his other thoughts were loud enough to silence the question. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He came looking for you! He wants you to travel again! You can tell him off like he deserves!" </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bard stumbled and nearly fell, letting out a pained yelp that pulled the Witcher's gaze to him in the dark. He couldn't help the smile that bloomed across his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Geralt! We meet again." He said as he started towards the other, who made no move towards him. "I'll have you know I managed to set up camp all for myself! I'm not exactly unused to camping alone, Witcher. You should be proud of me! Especially after you so heatlessly sent me away." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt didn't say anything back, just stood unmoving and waiting for Jaskier to reach his side. Just a few feet away Jaskier hesitated as he finally noticed that Geralt wasn't holding a torch in his hand, in fact Jaskier didn't see anything that could or should be casting the light that illuminated Geralt's form. He took a slow step forward and his smile faded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Geralt? Did you take a potion I don't know abo-" he found himself cut off as his foot suddenly met no resistance and he plunged into icy water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He surfaced and gasped as he looked around. Geralt was where he had just seen him, watching, silent. He looked off though, hazy and wrong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bard had no time to dwell on what was going on with Geralt as his fall had stirred up the muddy swamp bed and the water was becoming thick with the sticky substance. It stuck to the bard's clothes and shoes and began to weigh him down. Topped with how exhausted he still was he found himself slipping under again quickly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He struggled and his head breached the water just long enough to get a lung full of air before he was weighed down again. His feet were quickly stuck in the muddy bed and he thrashed wildly, hoping to break free again but quickly found himself unable to, only managing to sink further and his struggle weakened. What was Geralt doing and why wasn't he helping him? He had just been looking for him right? That had to mean he wouldn't sit back and watch the bard die. He was just right there! Just above him!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course he would. You're only good for shoveling shit, remember? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier's lungs strained for air and forced his body to attempt a breath. He let out a muffled sound as water flooded his mouth; his empty lungs. His body forcibly tried yet again to breathe, resulting only in more water filling his lungs. Black spots danced in his vision and he could just barely make out the sky from beneath the surface of the water. He reached up, desperate and searching for Geralt, for his help. None came, the last thing he saw was the moon as blackness swallowed him completely. His last thought was a single word.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know it isn't the best and probably not exactly what you were looking for but I hope this is angsty and heartbroken enough for you.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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